Underworld
by Switch MacGavin
Summary: Naruto AU. The Yakuza Underworld has taken a major hold on Japans economy and crime world. Our main boy just happens to be on the front lines! What is going on here, man?


**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own or claim to own any part of Naruto. All of it's characters belong to it's creators. All other characters, and certain places, belong to me, and any similarities of my story to any persons or place, real or fictitious, is coincidence. I take no money in the creation of this fanfiction, it is purely entertainment to myself, and to those who read it.**

**Author's Note: Wow. I hope this goes across well. My first Naruto fic, and my first AU fic. I'm kinda scared, but I hope I make my readers happy. I feel like shitting myself, really – it being my first on both accounts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. This is dedicated to you, my readers who are Naruto fans. Thank you, for opening this, and thank you for taking your time with it.**

**Chapter 1**

Again

**Tokyo, Japan**

** 23:04**

**January 3, 20XX**

It was a tall motel. Looking down from this room window, he could barely see the street through the vapor, and he knew he wasn't at the top of the towering building, either, yet he still looked down, trying to see. It was like a test for him. Usually he hated tests. Challenges, puzzles, things like that he could do, no problem, and liked them. Tests, he always passed them, but they were boring. Growing up, through school, he was always seen as the rebellious one, a loner punk, never doing tests until a weekend detention and excessive suspension threats.

After a time of getting bored, and a sore neck, from looking the thirty some odd stories to ground level, he retreated from the balcony and into the room. A pack of cigarettes lay upon the table. He picked them up and took one out, lighting it and placing it in the ashtray, tossing the pack into his duffel. He didn't smoke – he detested it. He lit it for the smell, something he hated. However, he hated the smell of the now cooling and drying blood from his victim more. Police officers and the like used coffee grounds to rid the smell, but the victim and himself had polished the package of coffee off this morning.

His victim had been a close friend in their college days. But like him, the friend had fallen into the criminal world, just in different factors. He'd become something of a mob lord, if there was such in Japan. Not as honorable as the Yakuza, but just as much power. Akashi Haruhi, the victim and no very ex-friend, lay with his headless body sprawled upon the floor, slightly leaning against the bed.

Staring down at the body, he felt like retching. Not from the sight, no. From the smell. He hated the sweet smell of dead flesh and blood. The smoke of the cigarette hadn't spread through the room yet. He wished he'd had the coffee grounds, he should have thought of that this morning. The coffee grounds worked better, quicker, but they burned sensitive his nose when burned. He had to deal with either, and he supposed, subconsciously, he'd chosen the less bothersome way. But he didn't know for sure.

Haruhi had been strong in school, but the greed and the power had weakened him. Not that his so called mob, more like a street gang slowly earning reputation, was powerful. It did low activity crimes, convenience store robberies, rapes, a small racketeering and prostitution ring. The home base, if it could be called that, was located in the quaint outskirts of Tokyo proper. It was a small house, ex temple. The gang had no more than fifty, now dead, members. Haruhi's closest guards had died slowly, in their sleep. Poison could be useful, especially when the ones you were poisoning, that were supposed to be guarding their boss, were asleep in a chair in a quiet hall. It was lucky, too. It made his job all the easier, as they still looked that they were sleeping.

Haruhi's standing business was now nonexistent. That's what happened when you made a threat to a man like Sarutobi Hiruzen. Hiruzen was the Kumicho(1) of Konohabura, the Yakuza family in control of most of Tokyo. It's reign had spanned many years, first gaining capitol power mid Edo period. Since then, it had grown in power and area controlled, and most argued it was the biggest family in Japan.

And that is where he came in. Uzumaki Naruto was one of Kumicho Hiruzen's Saiko Komon(2). As Saiko Komon, it was part of his duty to still do some dirty work. He didn't mind. And he didn't trust a lot of the underlings, a handful at most. While Konohabura was a ninkyo dantai(3), honorable and loyal, it was still part of the crime world, and the crime world was full of deceit. Deceit was a strong emotion, it could get it's hold on anyone not strong enough to avoid it. That's why he didn't trust a lot of people.

As the smell of the burning tobacco increased, the middle aged blonde stripped himself of all his clothing. It was clean-up time. Cleaning blood, and moving decapitated bodies was messy. The only part of killing someone that Naruto hated. Even though he hated them, guns were cleaner. Sometimes he pondered to himself why he couldn't get over the stitch in his head and use them. It would make the job a lot easier, and give him more time in the day.

He folded his clothes and placed them in the bathroom, away from where the stench of the corpse and cleaning materials could reach. His nose would burn worse from them than they would the coffee grounds, but it was part of the job. It's what he did. The money was good, the health care could be dangerous, but at most it was better, and he was good at it. He'd worked up the ladder of the Yakuza caste system, taking the place of his long forgotten, long deceased father. His body showed it, he was thinking to himself, looking in the wall-sized mirror of the bathroom. His irezumi(4) spread from his neck, down the front and back of his body, taking up most of it, except for his head, hands and half of his forearms, his feet and ankles, and his mid-section.

He was hard. No matter how hard he tried to understand the phenomena, killing made him erect. He took no physical pleasure of this fact. In actuality, he hated it. He wasn't a sexual person. Another thing he didn't quite understand about himself. He shrugged himself of the thought. He could dwell on himself, and his weird body functions, later.

He walked back to the sleeping area of the motel room, opened his duffel, and got to work. The mess was bad. He had to move the body to a plastic tarp and wrap it. After that, he had to cut and wash the carpet, and the concrete below it. Monotonous work. The only part he hated of the job. Hated. Hated.

The thoughts kept rambling through his head as he worked, wishing he'd had music to tune out his thoughts to. As the minutes passed, he turned on the television to see if that would work. Not. After about forty-five seconds of channel flipping through the motel's low-end cable, with it's bad reception, he shut it of with a low, guttural growl.

As he finished his work, he sprayed the room with an aerosol can. An odor-eliminator, to which wasn't supposed to have a smell, filled the air with an odd, stale water scent, extinguishing the remnants of fouled blood and stale cigarette smoke. He went to the bathroom and clothed, and made his way from the room to the elevator, and from there to the manager's office to pay him off. The money he dished out, paying people and police off for dirty work, or to keep there mouths shut, took a chunk out of his pocket. But he was well taken care of by his Kumicho, so he never complained. He paid the manager an arm and a leg to keep his mouth sewn shut and to rid the body.

This certain motel had seen it's fair share of Yakuza hits. The manager was used to it. He'd consent to crimes for money, but he wouldn't racketeer for any family. His status was neutral among the families. A trustful, with the right amount of dough, for any of the three heading families within Japan. He did reliable work, finishing off cleaning duties. Naruto had paid this person in particular a good year's worth of his own salary. The man was taken care of.

He headed out of the building and onto the sidewalk, not trusting cars or city transit. The only time he rode anywhere was if his Kumicho ordered it. He always took the Kumicho's orders, no questions asked. It kept Naruto paid, it kept him safe, and it kept him on his goal to overtake the family. The Kumicho knew of Naruto's plans, of course. But he was amused by them. Yakuza only made Kumicho in line of families, unless there was no heir. At that point, it was a hassle. The three families had to sign treaties, make meetings, and the main members of all three families would vote for the replacement. It was a long process, and usually, there was always an heir. A length of them. If you wanted to spearhead an organization like a Yakuza family, you had to go through a process of elimination, taking out the descendants of the Kumicho.

Naruto was incapable of doing that. Not for the fact that it would be hard – nor for the fact that he was scared. No, it was for the only factor; Sarutobi Konohamaru. Grandson of the Kumicho was next in line. The boy was a good friend of Naruto, a brother in most ways. Naruto had basically raised the child. From the age of four, the Kumicho had entrusted his heir to Naruto. It was Naruto's final loyalty test before becoming Saiko Komon. He'd raised the boy for nearly fifteen years, trained him, made him just as ruthless and cold as Naruto himself.

That was a lie, though. Naruto only held the facade of being ruthless and cold. You needed to be, or to look it, in this world, in this family. Konohamaru was still young, in a lot of ways. Sure, he would slit your throat, or pull a trigger at point blank, and show no signs that it bothered him. Naruto knew different. Killing bothered Konohamaru worse than it did Naruto. He didn't enjoy the kill, and would only kill if needed. If it came to his own life, or the life of someone he cared for, you'd better pray for mercy to your God, because Konohamaru wouldn't give it to you.

For the rest of the time, the kid had a constant mental battle with himself over the people he had killed, and Naruto was sure that he was the only one that knew of the kid's problems. Konohamaru had confided in Naruto this information, much like you would do to a brother. Naruto had grown attached to the kid, now nearing nineteen. Naruto was proud of him, because he was one of few, who no matter how loyal, didn't enjoy the kill.

Konohamaru had a heart, filled with love, filled with joy. A heart that shouldn't even see the blood of the men it's body had slain. If Naruto would have had any choice, to have been able to go back in time and change what he'd turned the kid into, he would. In a heart beat. Naruto didn't know what Konohamaru used to keep himself sane, but the kid held his head well. Not many people could kill their first target at ten years of age and not go crazy. Especially when it was someone that you were attached to.

As Naruto reached the Konohabura complex, he erased the thoughts from his head for now, and pressed the intercom button. "Uzumaki. Open up." He growled the order to the low end security guard. The security outpost was run by some low-time security company. They did their job well, but they weren't trusted. The company was owned by the so-hanbucho(5), and he felt that the outpost should be run by expendable men, not the Kumicho's guards. That the guard should be kept closer to the Kumicho. Naruto agreed, in an aspect, but he didn't like the fact that all of the family was put in the hands of untrustworthy men.

The gates opened up and Naruto made his way through them, ignoring the protests of the security guards about ordering them around, that they weren't on his payroll. He opened the main door and walked through the front doors, giving a curt nod to the guard posted there, who gave a small, barely see-able peace sign, held at his waist where the man clasped his hands together. He was a good guard, trustworthy, and friendly. Unbecoming, but popular in these days. With so many men, some leniency in rule was allowed. Back in the day, Naruto would have had the man killed, if not killed him himself. Naruto gave a mental shrug. It didn't matter. Kumicho was protected well enough.

Naruto took his shoes off and placed them in the wabaki holder, ignoring the wabaki themselves. He refused to wear them. Instead, he walked the length of the hall to Kumicho's conference room and knelt down onto both knees, giving the papyrus door a light tap. "Come in, Naruto," he heard Kumicho's gruff voice. Naruto opened the door and stood, stepped inside and slid the door closed behind him. He faced the family head and bowed, greeting in formal respect, "Kumicho."

"Have a seat, Naruto," the Kumicho ordered softly, holding an overturned hand out to the cushion at his left. Naruto nodded, walking to the cushion and sitting down on his calves, placing his hands on his lap. "Kumicho. Akashi Haruhi has been terminated, along with the rest of his followers. You will receive no more threats from them."

The Kumicho nodded, pouring and offering Naruto a dish of sake. Naruto accepted and swished the alcohol down his throat, holding his breath to make the burning sensation last. He placed the dish down and looked to the Kumicho. "Naruto. You are loyal, and a close friend. What you have done tonight has gained you my utmost respect. Killing a friend, even a bad one with forgotten contact, is a hard thing to do. Why you volunteered for the job, I do not know, but you have my thanks. You're loyalties do not go unrewarded."

Naruto bowed low to the table, "Thank you, Kumicho." He kept his head low until the Hiruzen placed a hand on his shoulder. "Rise, Naruto. You have done a great deal of things for me. The years have made you wise and strong. You soul is, it seems, invulnerable. You're heart is strong. Do not think that I do not know of your abilities within your heart. You have raised my grandson like a son of your own, and treat him like your own blood brother. I know you wish to replace me, but it is his place. There is nothing I can grant you more than title of Saiko Komon. My friend, my advisor, I trust your word among no one elses."

Naruto bowed again, "Thank you." Hiruzen frowned and sighed, "Naruto. You've no need to bow to me. This is no longer a business meeting, but one of friends. You are my greatest weapon, and my best ally. You have been more of a son than my own. Starting his own family was his biggest mistake. It is dishonorable on my behalf, but I was to weak to do anything at the time. I should have killed him myself." The old man's words were soft, but the man had a fire in his voice that could strike a man to the ground. Naruto looked at his Kumicho and nodded. "I am sorry for the loss of your son. His betrayal went unpunished not for your weakness, but for a final gift from a great father. To start this war against you is a sin against you."

Hiruzen looked at Naruto, a shocked look upon his face, and Naruto worried for a moment if he'd said the wrong thing, but his Kumicho just smiled. "You are correct my friend. My son is now dead to me, and you have taken his rightful place by my side. I remember, years ago, before you were born. Your father sat in that same place, and my son next to him. I think that is what made my son grow distant to me. He felt that I had betrayed him when I made your father my Saiko Komon. It was not a decision I regretted, same as my decision to make you Saiko Komon."

"Thank you, Hiruzen-san." Naruto gave a small nod, an informal bow. "Forgive me, but I sometimes wonder if this was not a mistake on your behalf, Kumicho. You know I would much prefer your position, yet still you trust me. Might I ask why?"

Hiruzen laughed softly, looking at Naruto with raised eyebrows. "Yes. You would kill to be in my position. I ignore this fact because loyalty is in your heart. No matter what you might wish, you would give your life for my own. You raised Konohamaru without a word of complaint, and for the first years he made your life even more miserable. That's why I made such an odd task your test. It is what made me completely trust you. It was also my gift to you. Though you can not take over while he is alive, you will remain his Saiko Komon. He will trust you among all others, and he will listen to only you. In a way, it will give you control of the family after I have passed. It is the best thing I could ever give you, and I am sorry I could not give you more. But I am sure, and I believe with all my heart, that the two of you will take this family to heights never thought possible by the world. You, the brain and the brawn of the organization, he the will and heart. I have my faith that my decisions on you have not been misplaced, just as I have complete faith in you."

Naruto smiled and bowed again, "Yes, Kumicho. Thank you."

"My friend, you deserve it." Hiruzen smiled in return. "Now. I have one last task for you. It is the hardest thing in my heart I have ever asked to be done, but it must be." The old man stood and turned, looking out of the rooms only window to the starry, moonlit sky. "You must organize a team and plan. I need you to lead this team up against Sarushiku."

Naruto's breath held in his throat. "Sir?" Hiruzen hung his head in a solemn bow. "My son has grown too strong. His _boryokudan_(6)_,_" Hiruzen spat the word. It was a word that he detested, but Naruto agreed. Sarushiku was but a boryokudan. Disgraceful, dishonorable, and greedy. "He cares not for his family nor his men. He shows no remorse for his fallen soldiers, nor for the people he kills or has killed. These acts, so many of them, must not go unpunished. These misdeeds are foul, and men of higher intelligence would die for less."

The blonde nodded in agreement. "Much less, Kumicho. How do you want them taken out? Or, do you want to feign discreetness?" Naruto's brain was already at work, the gears in his head spinning, thinking of ways he could take care of this clan of thugs. The Kumicho, seemingly reading his thoughts, commented, "No, Naruto. I don't want him dead. I want him humiliated, like he did me."

Naruto nodded, "Yes, sir." He stood up, bowing, knowing his Kumicho was done with him by the insistent, distant look on his face. "I'll get rid of this insult for you, Kumicho." Naruto began to take his leave, "Naruto. Your father would be very proud of you. I am very proud of you. Your quest to become Kumicho does not go in vain. Your life, your service, and your loyalty, will be greatly rewarded in time. You may not have that much patience with me, my boy, but time is on your side with the fox. Never doubt yourself, and please do not doubt me."

Naruto had stopped, his back turned to the Kumicho. He knew this lecture was coming. Whenever Hiruzen had what he believed was too dangerous of a mission, he gave this lecture. "Yes, Ojii-san." Hiruzen smiled. Naruto calling him grandfather always filled the Kumicho with pride. It was the only time the man would open his emotions up to the man.

Naruto waled out of the door and, kneeling down on one leg, slid the door shut. On his way out of the complex, he didn't smile, or speak to his some-what friend at the door. His eyes were closed, in deep thought.

**Author's Note: So... I hope this is enough to appease you guys for now. Not having net really messes up posting fics. -sigh- I'll have net next month, for my son's schooling, if everything goes right. So, hopefully more to come soon.**

**Translations and Definitions: Okay, so I know you guys are smart, but there are some people out there that don't know a lot of these words. I didn't for the longest time, some of them I didn't even know until this story, when I researched the stuff for Yakuza traditions and all that goody, and these are for the people like me who are, in the most sense, Japanese illiterate. Heheh.**

**Kumicho: Leader, or in similar usage for the American mobs, like a Godfather.**

**Saiko Komon: Senior advisor, or the Kumicho's right hand man. All decisions are made by these two, usually.**

**Ninkyo Dantai: This is what the Yakuza call themselves. It means Chivalrous or Honorable Organization.**

**Irezumi: These are those sweet ass body tats that Yakuza members sport, usually hidden under clothes unless in traditional Yakuza ceremonies.**

**So-hanbucho: Headquarters chief, usually head of security measures, and all that goody.**

**Boryokudan: This is what the police forces of Japan call the Yakuza, it means Violence Group, or Violent Organization.**

**Thanks all for reading, and hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
